


A Seedling for You and Me

by mew_tsubaki



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Get ready to cry, M/M, Older Characters, Parenthood, also mentions of Matsuwata because yeah, cameo from Watari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 20:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9783695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/mew_tsubaki
Summary: After the Seijou reunion, Yahaba and Hanamaki are back to their normal, everyday life. And then the doorbell rings.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The Haikyuu! characters belong to Furudate Haruichi-sensei, not to me. Because it's really hard to avoid writing your OTP when the right inspiration strikes. c: Read, review, and enjoy! *Note: This follows 2 [untitled](http://le-amewzing.tumblr.com/post/136770320258/25-with-hanayaha-or-16-with-matsuwata-uvu) [Matsuwata](http://le-amewzing.tumblr.com/post/139000432768/pairingscharacters-watari-shinjimatsukawa) fics I wrote on tumblr and are found in my HQ! fic collection, Nice Receive, though I don't suppose you have to read them in order to enjoy this. -w-

Yahaba yawned as he woke up with a kink in his neck and a creak in his back, not wanting to sit up for exactly those reasons but also because of the soft, microfleece blanket pulled up over his shoulders and the chin resting warmly against his left shoulder. He turned his head, knowing he likely had worse bedhead than his companion but wanting to poke fun at the other man regardless. "…Takahiro-san," he said quietly, "you look as if you stuck your finger in a socket."

Hanamaki didn't bother bringing a hand up to flatten his mussed style at Yahaba's teasing. He didn't even open his eyes as he slid his arm around Yahaba's waist beneath the blanket. "And yours looks like spun sugar, but I'm not complaining."

Of course not. Someone with Hanamaki's sweet tooth would never complain of such a thing. Still, his honest evaluation without even stealing a peek brought a hint of annoying warmth to Yahaba's cheeks, and he pouted while he snuggled against his lover. It was still summer outside, but Hanamaki had long ago given up the fight over Yahaba keeping their apartment nice and chilly year-round, because it meant fuzzy socks, soft pajamas, warm blankets, and skinship whenever they damn well pleased.

"You're cute when you pout." Those tawny eyes were _still_ closed! How—?!

"I'm not pouting."

"Yes, you are," Hanamaki drawled, and he pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of Yahaba's mouth that was closest to him. _Finally_ he opened his eyes, the sly angle to the corners of his eyes as permanent as ever. "Breakfast in bed?"

"Um, no. The last time that happened, you tripped, Mr. Lack-of-Grace, and eggs and rice and toast and jam when everywhere."

"True. But the shower after was fun."

Good grief. Even if it _was_ the weekend, it was too early in the morning for Hanamaki to be wearing that kind of grin. Yahaba pecked his lips before turning and getting up, saying as he put on his slippers, "I'm in love with a sexual deviant."

"Yes, yes. I love you, too, Shigeru."

Yahaba smiled at that as he left Hanamaki in bed and headed for the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and ran a comb through his hair, otherwise he'd be bothered for the rest of the day, and then he crossed their living room into their kitchen, picking this thing up and straightening that as he traversed carpet to linoleum.

Their apartment was nice, better than nice, really. They'd been living on the outskirts of the city for the past three years, since Yahaba's second year of university, and they could afford it mostly because of the paid internship Yahaba had taken back then that had led to his current job at a well-off record company. Sure, they still had little use for the spare bedroom other than an office for Yahaba or the occasional guestroom when Matsukawa or Oikawa came calling. Though there was a standing invitation for Watari, he'd only ever crashed a handful of times and usually on the living room couch, much as he'd done two weeks ago when they'd all gone to Oikawa's impromptu Seijou reunion party.

That reminded him. "Have you heard from Matsukawa-san?" Yahaba called to the open bedroom door as he put the kettle on and sifted through the boxes of tea they had. He'd settled on black tea to wake them up when Hanamaki replied.

"Nah. Oh, wait. No, there was one text from a couple of days ago. Hold on." As Hanamaki had fallen into the habit of being the one to make the bed, he emerged from the room a minute later, scrolling through his text history with one hand while the free one disappeared into not the pocket but into the waistband of his pajama bottoms. "Ah. Here. He bitched about the cost of gas one second. Then a minute later, he sent another message about it being worth it." Hanamaki showed him the texts.

"What the—? How can you read that? It's all kaomojis."

Hanamaki shrugged. "It's his way of communicating, though I think the prayer hands at the end was a bit much. I'm glad things are going well for him and Watari, though."

Yahaba nodded. Truth be told, they'd _both_ been worried about their friends since before the reunion, when Watari had rung Matsukawa by accident and revealed an old crush— _also_ by accident. But that had been a month before the reunion, and that had given Matsukawa time to think and Watari time to fret, but the conclusion was that Matsukawa would give them a shot. And Watari, ignorantly on Cloud Nine, had been floating ever since, to the point where he hadn't exactly caught his best friend up on things. Though Yahaba didn't have to be a genius to suss things out.

"Those two seem so innocent, starting off with the long distance," Hanamaki commented as he looped an arm around Yahaba's middle again while the brunet fiddled with their early morning hot beverages.

"I don't think that was the most surprising thing about seeing everyone, though."

"You mean their standings?"

Yahaba tapped the rim of his favorite mug—a two-handled monkey one given to him by Hanamaki, with the ears as handles—to his chin as he thought, lips pursed. "Yuda-san being married…"

"Yeah, that was a shocker."

Yahaba frowned and turned a little in Hanamaki's arms as the latter had put his phone away to trap Yahaba properly in a from-behind embrace. "Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san seemed as surprised as the rest of us. Ah, maybe not Sawauchi-san and Shido-san, but still…"

Hanamaki locked eyes with him, probably trying to read the worry on his face. "Yuda told us about it after Mizoguchi found us and broke the reunion up—you and Kyoutani were helping Shido load up the van. But, basically, it was almost a shotgun wedding. Fuu was some classmate of Yuda's and Sawauchi's at university, and Yuda asked her out nearly right after meeting her. And then they were dating and thinking of moving in together and there was something about problems with arranged marriages and—well, pretty much the two of them married after getting their families' approval. They didn't wait for their families to plan anything."

"Takahiro-san…a 'shotgun wedding' implies the bride's pregnant…"

"Oops," Hanamaki said with a laugh, and his arms tightened around Yahaba despite the latter needing to remove the whistling kettle from the cooktop. "Okay, so I misspoke. They weren't pregnant back then, and they aren't right now—that Yuda knows of."

"He's the first of us married. You never know—he might be the first with kids, too."

"Nah, that's Oikawa and Iwaizumi."

"There's a difference between having kids and one half of the pair _being_ a kid," Yahaba quipped as he poured their cups.

"True enough! Iwaizumi has yet to realize what those two idiots have, even, so we'll all have them beat long before that day comes."

The doorbell rang, which didn't strike Yahaba as completely odd since it was late enough in the morning for mail, though he wasn't expecting any packages and he didn't think Hanamaki had ordered anything either. So he kept their conversation up after passing Hanamaki his own tea, and he went to answer the door. "All right. So if we're the first couple, Yuda-san's the first married, what about the others?"

"Hmm. Matsukawa and Watari will be the first to make long distance work, since I don't see Watari moving any time soon—didn't he just land that job last year? And Matsukawa's not going to move back home, where he'd be even further away from his cute little libero. Sawauchi…I think he'd make a good dad, so I have him pegged as the first father of our bunch."

"Not Kindaichi?" Yahaba asked as he looked out the peephole. Weird. There was no one there.

"Ah, Kindaichi's gonna date his girlfriend forever. But he'd be a good dad, too, if those two ever marry."

Yahaba turned away from the door. "Makes you wonder about Kunimi. I can't help but think of him and Kindaichi in conjunction after all this time," he added with a chuckle.

Hanamaki grinned and passed the monkey mug to his better half. "Yeah, we all share that blame."

The former setter was about to remark and sip his tea when the doorbell rang again. Instead, he exchanged a look with Hanamaki and grimaced. "Goddammit… Must be the brat from downstairs in 1C again, pranking the whole building." He passed his mug back and stomped to the door, taking another peek to see if he could glance that troublemaker of an eight-year-old before he marched down to complain to the boy's mother for the fourth time in three months. Yet, again, Yahaba saw no one at all standing in the hall.

"I'll grab your jacket," Hanamaki said, turning on his heel to fetch said item as this was a situation to which they were becoming acclimated.

Yahaba called thanks over his shoulder. But he twisted his lips around, curious. Was this really only the neighbor boy? Only one way to find out, so Yahaba opened the door and looked up and down the hallway…before hearing the subtle sound of scuffed shoes. So he looked down.

"Shigeru?" Hanamaki called. "Shigeru?" he repeated, closer this time, within arm's reach, enough to spook Yahaba. "Whoa. You tend to jump like that only when I do something like—" But he stopped when Yahaba vigorously shook his head and pointed down, so Hanamaki saw her, too.

A little girl who couldn't have been more than three or four stood there, her face unsmiling and her round little hands gripping the straps of a cupcake-shaped backpack that was nearly the same size she was. Her bobbed hair was a very familiar shade of faintly reddish brown—pinkish—and her eyes were small and sharp, with a permanent, sly angle at the corners. Her nose, too, was a familiar shape, sharp and straight except for the roundness of the tip. And she stood there, rolling back and forth on the balls of her feet and her heels, staring up at them…

This little Hanamaki-lookalike stood there, staring at them openly and saying not a single word.

* * *

A part of Yahaba wanted to turn to Hanamaki and offer up excuses so that the proverbial elephant wouldn't come and have a sit in their sizable apartment. Neither man had siblings, so other solutions came to the forefront of the brunet's mind: Cousin? Long-lost relative in whom the Hanamaki genes were _abundantly_ defined?!

Sp-sperm bank?

But Yahaba couldn't tear his eyes away, same as Hanamaki, as the little girl kept her eyes trained on them. Only when she turned her head to the right at the sound of footsteps did Yahaba finally blink.

"Mama," she called, "you're late." Now she rudely pointed at the two men, but her finger motioned behind Yahaba, at Hanamaki. "Taka."

"Seri, don't point," the woman said. She, too, was rather striking, in that she looked nothing like her supposed daughter. She was barely shorter than Yahaba in her heels, and she was dressed to the business nines in a tan jacket with lapels and matching skirt. The bag on her shoulder, even, was a fashion briefcase. But where maybe her daughter could get away with feigning warmth if she smiled, there was nothing remotely warm or welcoming about this woman, even though she followed social norms and presented her name card with an itty-bitty bow of her head. "Serinuma Kahoko."

With Hanamaki staying quiet at the sudden appearance of his doppelganger and this dark-haired stranger, Yahaba cleared his throat and found his voice. "Y-Yahaba. Shigeru," he said, taking the name card. His anxiety worsened until it formed a knot right on top of his stomach, robbing him of his appetite as he looked over the embossed kanji that made up her name and her company's name, of which Yahaba had never heard.

"This is Serinuma Seri," Serinuma said, gesturing idly to the little girl.

Seri bounced on her heels at the mention of her name and bowed her head.

"And she is—"

"Please don't say it," Hanamaki begged, his voice raspy in spite of the morning tea.

But Serinuma seemed to care less as she pushed on: "Seri is the result of my…meeting Hanamaki Takahiro once." She raised one perfectly tweezed bark brown eyebrow as she stared at him, as if Yahaba weren't there. "You _are_ him, correct?"

Both men stood up straight, and Yahaba stole a glance at his boyfriend, who…frankly, looked shattered. And Yahaba—Yahaba was splintering, because he was too smart for his own good, and he could figure much about this situation without asking anything.

Still, Serinuma didn't appear to be fine with simply introducing father and daughter. "Aren't you going to invite us in?" she said coolly, so Yahaba stepped aside, knowing whatever catastrophe that followed would be best unraveled indoors away from prying eyes.

Once the door was shut, Serinuma kicked off her shoes but held on to her bag. Seri, yet to say another word, trotted into the living space, taking everything in until she settled herself in the middle of the couch, her backpack now in her lap and her eyes trained on the TV screen, which currently was blank.

Yahaba moved robotically, finding the remote on the mounted shelves to the left of the ugly pink couch—the only piece of furniture Hanamaki had ever been stubborn about buying—and he clicked the TV on, searching for a kid-friendly show before realizing he didn't know any and settling for the news. With Seri's attention off them, Yahaba finally took a breath and looked between Hanamaki and Serinuma. "I'm sorry. Did you say— _she's_ his daughter?" he asked, pointing to Hanamaki.

"I didn't have a one-night stand with _you_ four years ago," the woman retorted as she sat at the two-seater table in their kitchen and unzipped her bag.

The words were like ice, and they made Yahaba flinch. He turned to see Hanamaki's reaction, and the taller man who already was fair-skinned had become a very pure shade of white. Oh, hell.

Serinuma rummaged in her bag for something, speaking all the while. "It was a real pain, tracking you down, Hanamaki-kun. But having a large network of friends comes in handy, so the friend of a friend of a friend…or something like that—they remembered when we'd met, and they asked around, and all it took was a little patience and about half a year. But. Here we are, and I didn't even have to hire a private investigator to find you."

Yahaba grimaced again. "Why would you have hired a P.I. to find him? Are you asking for child support— _if_ she's even his?"

She paused in her search and looked at him. Her eyes were small slits, and there was a bemused smirk toying with her red-painted lips. "I would have, for reasons I'm about to state. No, I'm not asking for support. And, come on—you're going to look at them and tell me they _aren't_ related? By all means, take a paternity test. Though I'm not paying for it." She paused. "On second thought, that'll be the one thing I'm willing to pay for, if you'll agree to my conditions."

"Hold on a second," Hanamaki interrupted, his voice stronger but no less shaky than before. He took a step towards the other two, resting his hand on Yahaba's shoulder for support. "Can we just take a moment and catch up? Because I feel as if I'm at the start line whereas you're at the finish."

Serinuma snorted at that, but Yahaba realized that it wasn't intended to be rude—really, it was just her laugh. "Well, for starters, I did something four years ago that I thought I'd never do and hit on a guy five years my junior while out drinking with my colleagues. And that guy said he was single."

Yahaba's hackles went up, but he remained quiet at the curl of Hanamaki's fingers into his shoulder. Yahaba could have a quick temper, but Hanamaki knew that, so this signal was him asking Yahaba for the benefit of the doubt. Besides, this was only Serinuma's side of the story.

"And so I thought, 'What the hey? Everyone from work's had so much alcohol, _none_ of us are going to remember this night.' So I bought you a few rounds in addition to the one beer you'd been nursing all night, fun was had, and Seri came out of me nine months later."

Yahaba flinched again, this time at her crassness. Honestly, this woman…was unbelievable! "If she's four, then how come you've never reached out before?"

"Because it didn't matter before," she replied. She went back to sifting through papers in her bag and grasped a thin packet with an "aha!" She pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear and passed the paper to the men, a spark of life in her dark eyes. "There. Sign these."

Hanamaki read over Yahaba's shoulder, and the tension in the room grew thicker. "Custody papers?" Yahaba confirmed.

"Yes. It didn't matter before that I had her. But now you need to take her."

Both of them snapped their heads up at that. "Wha…? Why 'need'?" Hanamaki asked.

"Because. My current relationship is getting serious, and I don't think bringing Seri into the family would be good. So. Time for her to meet her father and live with him."

A nasty, explosive mixture of emotions had been swirling around in Yahaba for the past several minutes. And, yet, hearing the woman's cold words, his heart ached for the child who sat on their couch right now, swinging her legs, watching the news intently as if it were the best thing on television, and his heart plummeted, colliding with that ball of anxiety that still rested above his stomach. "…that's a terrible thing to say," he mumbled.

When Serinuma gave him an it's-none-of-your-business stare, Hanamaki echoed him. "How can you say that about her, your own kid? Whether she's mine or not—"

Serinuma sighed and closed her eyes, holding up her hands. "That's beside the point. Do you want her or not?"

"We can't just _take_ her in—"

"Fine." Serinuma stood and smoothed her skirt. She flicked off an imaginary piece of dust off her right lapel before addressing them again. "I'm staying in the area for a bit, so you can get to know Seri a little before signing." She turned her head in the direction of the living room. "Seri! We're leaving."

It was as if the kid acted only once called by name. Seri hopped off the couch in one fell swoop and swung her backpack on before trotting after her mother, who didn't even wait for her to get her shoes on before heading out the door. Even Seri had to be the one to reach up and grab the handle to shut it. And the door shut with a too-loud thudding of the lock clicking into place. The sound made Yahaba flinch for the third time that morning.

In the sudden onset of quiet, the couple had no clue what to do with themselves. The tea was long forgotten on the kitchen counter, and the news provided them with awkward white noise. It wasn't until the sound of jarring sirens on a news report about an attack in a foreign country that everything came rushing back to Yahaba.

"Oh my _fucking_ —! You've got to be kidding me!" he hissed at Hanamaki, who was stunned for a second before he, too, furrowed his brow and glared back at his lover. "A _kid_?! Seriously, Takahiro-san?! And she's _four_ —"

"I can do the math, Shigeru—"

" _Can you_?! Because we started going out in my second year of _high school_. I'm more than a year out of _university_. That's seven, going on _eight years_ of us, so when the hell did you have the time—" His voice caught, and his eyes were suddenly wet. It wasn't as if he hadn't known Hanamaki's preferences catered toward either gender, but ever since he'd confessed to Hanamaki on that dumb, chilly spring day towards the beginning of his second year at Aoba Johsai, it'd been him and Hanamaki, Hanamaki and him, and—

"Shigeru—"

" _Don't_." The word was a single syllable, clipped and jagged, and it did its job, judging by the green tint to Hanamaki's complexion.

But it also did its job on Yahaba, and he finally felt cut up inside, all broken glass and molten emotions. He turned away from Hanamaki and stomped back into their bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him, probably the first of many more to come.

* * *

The morning and afternoon sauntered on by with Yahaba still locked in their room. He skipped breakfast, and, when he skipped lunch, Hanamaki went into their spare room, closing that door, too. Well, fine. Yahaba wasn't going to come out, not yet, but Hanamaki could go hide as he pleased, too.

Yahaba finally uncurled himself from beneath their blankets sometime in the early evening, when his cheeks felt dry and crack-worthy, like fragile paper, after the tear tracks had long since dried up. He heaved a sigh and rolled onto his back, smacking his forehead with his forearm as he stared up at the ceiling. The room was pretty dark, considering the only light coming in was from the city lights outside the curtained window, but he couldn't muster the energy to turn on the light on his nightstand.

He knew there was a girl, an innocent kid, mixed up in this mess, but he wanted his moment to focus on said mess and get this out of his system—if he could. Reminding Hanamaki of it earlier made the memories from their first year together come flooding back…but he was also trying to remember the start of his university days and his second year.

Hanamaki hadn't gone to university. He'd decided to work right out of high school, the only one of the seniors to do so. But he'd been a pretty decent boyfriend from the start. He hadn't always had homemaking skills, but he'd picked up a lot since they'd started living together. Before then, Hanamaki had worked hard to be better able to read the atmosphere and read people and, in particular, read Yahaba. He'd always been a natural charmer, which was one of things that had drawn Yahaba to him in the first place, but him working on that kind of sensitivity had won Yahaba over fully, even if Yahaba had been the one to confess. Yahaba had confessed, Hanamaki liked to say, but Hanamaki had done the falling in love.

The saying brought a smile to Yahaba's reluctant lips now, and his heart ached anew. For crying out loud, _what_ had _happened_ four years ago? He remembered them having a fight—a pretty bad one, about Yahaba's frustrations with Hanamaki's then-seeming lack of interest in the future—but then they'd made up. It had taken time and some encouragement from their friends, but they'd made up and they'd felt firmer than ever before and they'd decided that it was time for the next big step. So they'd moved in together.

Huh. A…lot had happened in just one year.

But… Yahaba sat up slowly in bed, staring at the bedroom door, picturing the closed door on the other side, the one that led to the spare room where Hanamaki was holing up. A lot had happened, but Yahaba really wanted to know where Hanamaki had found the time for such a one-night stand. Had he…

Had Hanamaki really cheated on Yahaba?

Early on in their relationship, Hanamaki, ever the show-off, had told Matsukawa first before anyone else, because the two were close. Yahaba would call them best friends, and Hanamaki guessed that was the best way to describe them. But Matsukawa was told about them, and Matsukawa had given them his congratulations, and then he'd warned Yahaba—in what Yahaba had assumed at the time was a jesting manner—to watch his step around someone as playful as Hanamaki. Hanamaki had already had a few girlfriends before Yahaba and had caught one senior's eye, but he was a little flighty and a lot nice to everyone and always ready to make others smile.

Now, of course, Yahaba couldn't help but wonder if Matsukawa had meant for Yahaba to take his warning more seriously. Still, all that said, Yahaba had never figured Hanamaki to be the _cheating_ type. So what gave?

Missing the other two important meals of the day made Yahaba's stomach growl now, and he sighed again as he got up and put on a sweater, annoyed that he missed Hanamaki's warmth. He left the room and rubbed his cheeks as he went to scrounge for something ready-made in the fridge. When the best he could come up with was cold rice, he didn't care, so he reheated it and sprinkled soy sauce on it and ate a few bites.

But the food settled on the anxious ball above his stomach.

Yahaba cursed under his breath, knowing that ball would unravel only one way. A loose plan in mind, he grabbed the bag of candy resting in the middle of their kitchen table and brought that and his bowl of rice to the door to the spare room. Since his hands were full, Yahaba gently kicked the door. "Ta…" He cleared his throat. "Takahiro-san."

No response. Damn.

"Takahiro-san," he repeated.

The swivel chair inside creaked as Hanamaki obviously swung around in it.

Good lord… Sometimes solving their fights was a toss-up. They were both hotheaded, even though usually they tried to pass things off with a joke before getting to the real argument. However, there were times like this when the eruption was immediate, and these eruptions had to be fixed with one of them coming around, as opposed to the usual "Let's get everything out in the open and run out of breath and then laugh at ourselves before we have make-up sex" tactic.

The swivel chair squeaked, coming to a sudden stop. A few seconds later, Hanamaki opened the door, his eyes red, too, though he had a beaten puppy expression on his face that was tinged with a bit of resentment.

"Takahiro-san…I'm sorry I didn't let you speak earlier," Yahaba apologized. He knew he owed Hanamaki that much, despite the hurt he was feeling himself.

Hanamaki frowned but stepped aside and gestured to the swivel chair. He took the candy bag as Yahaba settled in the chair, and he closed the door so he could lean against it. Slightly ridiculous, as the whole apartment belonged to them, but Yahaba thought it best not to point that out.

"So…"

"…she's right."

Yahaba flicked his eyes up to him, toasted brown irises meeting tawny ones. "What happened?" he asked around the lump in his throat. He occupied himself eating the rest of the rice after.

Hanamaki shook his head as he opened the candy bag. "I was _really_ dumb. It was— I mean, _yes_ , I did sleep with her that once—"

Ah, the truth stung.

"—but you and I _weren't_ together when that happened."

Yahaba gave him an odd look. "When did that happen?"

"Uh, four years ago, Shigeru. We were broken up for two months."

What the hell? Yahaba didn't remember anything like that. "What are you talking about? We had a really nasty fight, but I never broke up with you."

Hanamaki looked like a deer in the headlights as he unwrapped a hard candy in the shape of a macaron. "…what?"

If Yahaba hadn't just had the worst day of his life, he would've laughed at that face and kissed the confusion off it. "Takahiro-san, I've never broken up with you. I would never do that—I _won't_ ever do that."

A healthy flush rose in Hanamaki's cheeks as his eyes fell, matching the pink of the candy he popped in his mouth. He let it dissolve some before he spoke. "Oh."

Yahaba exhaled slowly, his appetite returning a little. "Are you really that surprised?"

"I…was too stupid to know that back then."

Yahaba quirked an eyebrow but refrained from commenting.

Then Hanamaki picked his head up, disgruntled. "You know, you should've made it clear it wasn't a breakup."

The former setter wanted to retort, but a part of him, in hindsight, agreed. In addition, he could tell there was more Hanamaki wanted to say. So…Yahaba bravely prompted him. "Was she…the only one?"

Hanamaki's shoulders sagged as he shook his head. "I tried dating some women. Three. But Serinuma-san was the only one I slept with, honest. It wasn't a memorable experience, so I gave up trying to find someone else, and my head had cooled by then, so I considered winning you back, and Yuda and Iwaizumi were the ones who said we both had apologizing to do, but Iwaizumi smacked me a _lot_ and told me to stop being a baby, so. I did. I stopped whining about what had happened, and we both worked to get back together." He picked his head up again, making a face. "Iwaizumi had the audacity to say he and Oikawa do a better job of making up than we do. Goddamn closet couple."

Yahaba shook his head at him, rolling his eyes at the remark. "Yeah, well, Iwaizumi-san's probably right. They have the advantage of knowing each other for almost decades, plural."

The joker nodded in agreement, and he reached out a hand to his lover. "Shigeru…do you believe me?"

Ah. Despite everything, that word—"believe"—made Yahaba internally cringe, and he frowned but took Hanamaki's hand. "I love you," he said.

Hanamaki gave his hand a hopeful squeeze.

"…but this is a lot to process, and you'll forgive me if I second-guess you for a while."

Though he'd been expecting Hanamaki's grip to slacken, Yahaba was surprised and a tad impressed when Hanamaki held his hand tighter and gave him a strong, brilliant smile. "If that's what it takes."

Yahaba gave him a wry smile, and Hanamaki cheered when he was permitted to kiss the topmost, fluffiest part of Yahaba's hair, where Hanamaki could bury his nose.

They exited the spare room after, and Yahaba plucked the candy bag from Hanamaki's hands before he could ruin his supper…whatever they decided to eat for supper, that was. He put his rice aside, too, as he began to look for something to cook for the two of them, and Hanamaki went and flipped through the TV channels, since the TV hadn't been shut off. "So what now?" he asked with Yahaba's back to him.

"I was thinking dinner."

"No, I mean—" Hanamaki turned the TV off and joined Yahaba at the fridge. They exchanged a look. "What about Seri?"

Ah, yes. Seri, whom Serinuma wanted simply to dump on them—rather, on Hanamaki. "'What,' indeed," Yahaba mumbled, and Hanamaki rested his head against his as they stared at the contents of the fridge, thinking not about supper but about a small girl whose world was getting turned upside-down.

* * *

A text was too informal in this scenario, and Hanamaki's nerves were the consistency of jelly, not steel, so the following morning, Yahaba took a mid-morning break at work to dial the number on the name card and…and what? Try to arrange something?

Before he'd figured out what to say, the line connected, and Serinuma answered. "Serinuma here."

"Uh…"

"The eloquent one, I see. But at least you uttered a sound. Yahaba-kun, was it? Did Hanamaki-kun sign the papers? I'd like to take care of this business sooner rather than later."

Yahaba silently sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He knew women as a whole weren't evil, but she was a damn good example of the type who gave her gender a bad rap. "Takahiro-san and I work, you realize. We have schedules to stick to. Normally he's busy on Sundays, so you lucked out yesterday, catching him."

"I didn't luck out. I simply asked the right people, so I knew he was off."

Yikes. Just how much had she come to learn about Hanamaki in her search?

"And if you're wondering, I don't care that he's homosexual. Everyone I've talked to has said they only knew of one boyfriend, so I'm not thinking about anything he could've transmitted or holding that against him, nor do I care what tendencies rub off on Seri—"

"HEY!" Yahaba blinked, surprised he'd actually snapped at her. Then again, she may have been a stranger, but she still was saying all this crap…

"Yes?" Serinuma asked, her tone taut.

"He's not some vagrant or villain—he's anything but vile, and he's someone I love very much, so please show some respect."

There was a short pause, and he could hear her sigh on the other end of the line. "Whatever."

'You realize you surprised us with this?"

"Of course. I was kind of hoping he'd dumbly sign while caught in a stupor."

Okay. Yahaba could tease Hanamaki over the stupid things he did. But not this bitch.

"But, as that wasn't going to happen with you around, I figure you can collect Seri and watch her for a little bit, get a feel for parenting."

The passersby in the lobby at Yahaba's company gave him worried glances, so he trained his face not to show his disbelief as he attempted to wrap up this heinous conversation. "…w-where can we collect her?"

He could practically hear the smile in her voice. "There's a fast-food restaurant on your street, no? How about meeting us there at five o'clock?"

That meant having a working lunch and running from the train stop past their apartment complex, but Yahaba was the first there. Hanamaki joined them five minutes later, having gotten a glib text from Yahaba earlier in the day.

They probably looked a sight, Yahaba in his disheveled suit and tie, Hanamaki still in his uniform for the family restaurant at which he worked during the day. But the newcomers didn't care, and Seri stared and pointed at both of them. "Taka. Shige."

Clearly Serinuma had never taught her daughter manners, but Yahaba thought the best thing to do in this case was to smile to spite Serinuma and to try to show Seri that she was welcome somewhere. "That's 'Shigeru-san,'" he corrected gently, ignoring Hanamaki's raised eyebrows.

"Shige."

Yahaba grinned and bore it.

No sooner had the couple arrived than Serinuma was standing and putting her wallet in her bag, leaving Seri at the table with her soft drink. "Well, Seri, I'll see you later."

"Hold on," Hanamaki growled, grabbing her by the arm. He released her when she gave him a dry look and tossed her hair back, catching more than her fair share of the attention of the other patrons in the restaurant. "What do you mean, you'll see her later?"

But Serinuma had more interest in her phone than she did in the situation. "As I said. You can have her for the evening. Call me later, and I'll come pick her up." She didn't even say "goodbye" before she left, and the two men sank into the hard, plastic booth, Yahaba beside Seri and Hanamaki opposite them, the whole seat to himself as he lay down with a groan.

Yahaba put his bag—nothing quite as classy as Serinuma's—on the table and crossed his arms, resting them and his head atop the bag as he caught his breath. He turned his head towards Seri, watching her sip her drink. "Did she feed you, Seri-chan?"

The little girl shook her head, never taking her lips off the straw. She was so focused on the drink, it was kind of cute.

Yahaba cupped his cheek in his palm and nudged Hanamaki in the thigh with his foot. "Takahiro-san, are you dead yet?"

"The bus broke down a block after the restaurant, so I ran the rest of the way here. So…yes. I'm dead."

"All right, then. Seri-chan, it's just you and me for dinner. What would you like?"

Seri finally looked at him as Hanamaki sat up and yowled about Yahaba being unfair. "…fried rice."

Simple enough. "Anything else?"

"Hayashi rice."

…well, at least there was beef in that one. "Anything else that's not rice?"

"Natto."

It wasn't just her unsmiling face. The kid's tastes were weird, too. Yahaba exchanged a look with Hanamaki, but understanding passed between them. They could handle a weird menu for one night.

Hopefully they could handle a kid for one night, too.

The three of them left after Seri had finished her drink, and they went straight for the supermarket in the neighborhood beside where they lived. Seri didn't move to hold either of their hands, and neither of them forced that on her, though they kept her between them while they walked outside.

Inside the market, it was as if she weren't there with them. Several times, Yahaba found himself looking for her, only to discover she was right behind them. They tried getting her to pick something out to no avail. But, in the checkout line, she kept eyeing the umaibo, so Hanamaki squatted down to her eyelevel at Yahaba's insistence.

"Hey, Seri-chan, do you like umaibo? So does my friend, Matsukawa," he added with a tiny smile when she at least nodded. When she didn't say anything, he watched her right up until Yahaba had to pay, and then he selected one and added it to their purchases. "She kept staring at the sour cream flavor," Hanamaki whispered to Yahaba, explaining his actions.

Yahaba nodded, and they collected their bags and headed home. Once they were inside, Yahaba pretended to find the extra item in their things and asked Seri if she'd eat it for them.

She didn't have to be asked twice. She took it and scarpered off to the couch, backpack in her lap again as she unwrapped the puffy, crunchy snack and munched on it at a steady pace.

The couple stood in the kitchen, keeping an eye on her as they assembled things for the meal as if this happened every night. "You're better with her than I expected," Yahaba said quietly after an odd beat.

Hanamaki grinned at him and kissed his cheek. "Funny. I was going to say the same thing to you."

Yahaba tried to smile at that, but some of yesterday's depression remained. "This…is a big step from yesterday."

"Yeah…I thought the same thing for the rest of my shift."

"Ah! Your hours tonight at the other—"

Hanamaki shook his head. "I got someone to cover, don't worry. This is…more important."

Yahaba nodded. There really was nothing else to do but to agree.

Hanamaki helped with some of the prep, and then Yahaba cooked everything while Hanamaki changed and tried to get to know Seri better. Characteristically, the only way the two were alike was in their frankness, because Seri was far terser than Hanamaki was. The way they ate, too, was different, as Seri was left-handed and Hanamaki was not. These things Yahaba observed as they ate in the living room, in front of the TV, all three lined up on the couch as they didn't have the space at the couple's tiny dining table.

Though her manners were lacking, she still managed a sincere "thank you" to Yahaba, and she tried putting her dishes in the sink with theirs, despite her tiny, four-year-old stature. Hanamaki had to take the dishes from her in the end, something that made her pout, but that only drew the men's amusement. Their exposure to her wasn't much, but…honestly, she wasn't a bad kid. She wasn't really cute, with her inscrutable expressions and un-cute attitude, but that didn't make her bad.

A little before eight o'clock, Hanamaki agreed they should call Serinuma to collect her, since Seri needed to stick to whatever bedtime her mother had given her. And parting this time was better, easier, since Serinuma had no more bombshells to drop on them.

"That wasn't so bad," Yahaba thought aloud as he and Hanamaki crashed on the couch and found one of their favorite movies playing on the TV. Yahaba snuggled in to Hanamaki's side, feeling better about that arm around him than he would've the night before.

But Hanamaki was quiet.

"Takahiro-san?" Yahaba peered up at him.

Those short eyebrows on that handsome face were drawn together, though, revealing a completely different expression than the smiling one he'd been showing when Seri was with them. He realized Yahaba was staring, however, and he broke into a halfhearted smile, trying to reassure his boyfriend. "Ah, sorry, sorry. Did you say something, Shigeru?"

"No."

Hanamaki eyed him curiously but didn't press any further, and the two of them settled in for the rest of the night.

* * *

"Holy crap. Why didn't you call sooner?!"

"Pot calling the kettle black, Watari," Yahaba snipped at his friend over the phone several days later during his lunchbreak at work. He wasn't eating—he had a headache from two recording artists warbling all morning—and he almost wished this were a smoking break. The smokers in the office seemed to be able to take a break whenever they pleased, but his lunchbreak only came once a day and lasted for half an hour. It'd probably been a bad idea to call up Watari and tell him about Seri when he only had so much time.

"No. I, uh, well… I mean…" Watari was cute when he was flustered, and the ease with which Yahaba could picture his former teammate turning berry red helped put him at ease, too.

"It's fine. I don't hold it against you." Yahaba paused as someone else came out to the balcony that fed off the lobby on the tenth floor, but he continued when the person stayed away and lit a cigarette. "Matsukawa-san didn't say anything?" He couldn't picture Hanamaki not mentioning Seri to the jet-haired blocker.

"No, he didn't. Well, he mentioned he got a cryptic text from Hanamaki-san yesterday. He couldn't figure out if Hanamaki-san's sad or happy or what. But this explains a lot now."

"Yeah…" Yahaba opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped himself. He wasn't ready to point out to someone else when he hadn't pointed out to Hanamaki first how much more often the joker was smiling with the little girl around. In two days, a week will have passed since meeting her, but Yahaba had to wonder how long this routine would continue.

Each day, Yahaba arranged to collect Seri from her mother as soon as he got out of work, and Hanamaki would join them on the days he could; otherwise, the latter would meet them at home. They'd eat together, sort of watch TV and talk, and Serinuma would end the night by picking her up. She'd said nothing more about the custody papers, but Yahaba sensed her impatience with each night that passed without them keeping Seri.

Yahaba also wondered if this were healthy for him and Hanamaki. Not that it was Seri's fault, but she _was_ a constant reminder of Hanamaki's lapse in judgment and an example of the consequences of Yahaba's temper. …though, honestly, Yahaba was having a harder and harder time thinking of her this way every time she stared at him with Hanamaki's face. That prompted him: "Well, if there's one saving grace, it's that she looks nothing like her mother."

"So you mentioned," Watari stated. "Not even her eyes?"

"No. They're a soft brown, like mine. Serinuma-san said Seri-chan looks like her uncle in that regard."

"So Serinuma-san has a brother. What about her other family?"

"Apparently she's made it clear to them that she wants Takahiro-san to take her, and that's that."

"I guess that explains her first name, then."

"What do you mean?"

There was a soft sound on Watari's end, something not quite a sigh but more than a simple exhalation. "'Seri,' from 'Serinuma.' If she ever found the father, Seri-chan's name would be a needling reminder of what happened."

"Oh, that." Yahaba ran his free hand through his hair and back, not messing it up any more than the humid, end-of-summer breezes kept doing while he chatted outside. "That already occurred to me, that being the one thing her mother gave her. But it doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would."

"…huh."

"What?" Yahaba didn't like the sound of that "huh."

"Nothing. Just… I kind of wonder if maybe you're more ready for this than you think."

"You're kidding, right?"

"One thing that hasn't changed since our school days—you and Oikawa-san are conductors much as you ever were. You plan things. You plan _for_ things. Sure, Oikawa-san needs a wrangler and you can come off as lazy, but you two have extremely decent heads on your shoulders."

"…I _think_ there was a compliment in there somewhere…"

Watari chuckled. "There was. And, if anyone else had told me the story you've just shared, I'd never tell them this. But maybe having a kid… _isn't_ something that's going to change your lives very much?"

Well, now Yahaba was stymied. Of _course_ having a kid changed things. No, they weren't having a baby. And, _no_ , they weren't dealing with a child who'd started school already. And, sure, Seri didn't seem to hate them. And Yahaba had been able to cook everything she'd asked for so far—from a plain gratin to sushi rolls with character faces (though, he knew, Hanamaki was the better food artist and had done much of the work that time). And they had the space for her, if they moved things around… And the school district was the same neighborhood as the supermarket…

But bringing up a kid cost money. Yahaba knew that. He'd come from a well-off family, Hanamaki, from a lower-middle class one, and they did well just slightly more than covering their own asses out in the real world. Adding in Seri… Yahaba managed their finances, so he did a quick mental calculation, and he knew adding in Seri would suddenly make the purse strings tight, tighter than either of them had experienced.

Of course, neither of them had experienced the kind of coldness they'd witnessed firsthand from Serinuma. Yesterday's memory of Seri reaching for her hand when they left the apartment and Serinuma ignoring it made Yahaba curse, although it wasn't as if Serinuma had taken hold of her at all, that the men had seen.

"Yahaba?"

"Yeah, yeah… What are you, a devil's advocate?"

"What did I do?" But there was a laugh in his voice.

"You know, you fool people who don't know you well, but we know how well you fit in with the rest of us assholes at Seijou. The odd-one-out was Kindaichi, not you, Watari."

"Keep me updated, and I'll do the same," Watari promised, amusement lacing his tone as he ended the phone call.

Yahaba glared at the blank screen that greeted him after, but he sighed and pocketed the device, suddenly wishing he'd eaten his lunch as scheduled.

He spent the rest of his break outside in the fresh air, watching his phone, expecting a call or at least a message from Serinuma, as he had the past several days. But, today, radio silence. So Yahaba returned to the rest of his workday.

By the time his day ended, he'd still heard nothing from Serinuma. At least his headache had disappeared.

On his way home, he texted Hanamaki, asking if he'd heard anything either. Of course, he had to wait until his boyfriend was on break at the café he worked most nights, and it wasn't until later that night when Yahaba got a message saying no, he'd heard nothing, as well.

Though the abrupt change in routine bothered Yahaba, he doubted Serinuma would listen to them if they tried reaching out to her. Or, maybe, that was what she wanted, for them to show interest and therefore back them into a corner.

Either way, regardless of how they felt about Seri, taking her in—it really was too soon, just as Hanamaki had pointed out before.

Yahaba cooked for one that night and ate alone. He waited up as long as he could for Hanamaki, but he drifted off to sleep just as he heard the front door open and close at the sound of Hanamaki's arrival, and the last thing he experienced before he fell into a deep sleep was the usual kiss pressed against his temple by his overworked lover.

* * *

In the morning, Yahaba was practically _thrown_ awake when Hanamaki yanked his right arm out from under him, scrambling to grab his vibrating phone. Once the former setter had grasped things, he, too, was wide awake, and he rested his chin on Hanamaki's back as he read the text over his shoulder. "What'd she say?"

Hanamaki deflated, telling him all he needed to know. "She and Seri are going home for a few days." His phone buzzed again. "Oh. They'll be back by the middle of next week."

Though Yahaba had mixed feelings about encouraging the mess to spread in their laps, he wrapped his arms around Hanamaki's waist and hugged him. "That's great," he said.

Hanamaki put his phone down and turned, the mischief that'd been absent from his eyes lately back in full force. "You mean it?"

Yahaba's pulse quickened with that gaze on him. "I do," he said, and his thoughts fogged briefly when Hanamaki kissed him fervently in thanks. Then they collapsed backwards in bed, and Hanamaki was smiling so wide, Yahaba wondered if he were up to something.

"Y'know…"

"Mm?"

"She—Seri-chan. She's mine. I know it."

That ball of anxiety had almost disappeared from Yahaba's middle, but the small bit of it left tightened before Yahaba counted to six and took a breath, because… "Yeah. Yeah, I kind of got that, too." It wasn't just that Hanamaki and Seri looked so much alike. As the days passed, Yahaba had started seeing more and more of Hanamaki in her, from the poker face down to the way she washed her hands before eating—soaping up her right hand first and then her fingers. That'd been interesting, actually, as they didn't have a stool for her to stand on so she could reach the sink, so Yahaba had had to pick her up, but Seri didn't mind.

"To be honest, even if we hadn't started to get to know her," Hanamaki continued, resting his forehead against Yahaba's, "sometimes there are just things you know immediately. You just look—and know."

"Like Watari's crush on Matsukawa-san."

"Or when Oikawa and Iwaizumi would have that perfect synchronization."

"That this was the apartment for us."

Hanamaki chuckled and pulled Yahaba close, flush against him. "She's _mine_ , Shigeru. Like you're mine. Well, different from that, but still." His eyes gleamed in the sunlight pouring in from the window, the happiness evident on his face.

Ah… That made Yahaba's heart, and the anxiety, melt.

Their weekend was spent closer to what the previous one should've been, though Hanamaki had to go to work around noon and would be back by dinnertime. While they were together, Hanamaki called up Matsukawa and properly informed him, though Hanamaki was a bit miffed at learning Yahaba had told Watari everything already, and the libero had let some things slip to his new boyfriend. "At least promise me no one's going to tell the likes of Oikawa or Yuda until I say it's okay," he made his best friend and his lover promise while he still had Matsukawa on speaker. Lucky for him, Matsukawa and Yahaba promised.

The next few days were somewhat of a blur, all breakfast together and work and wondering what their next Seri visit would be like. The couple definitely was outside of their norm, but this different kind of excitement was new for them, and it was kind of irresistible.

However, when they saw Serinuma and Seri as promised at the fast-food restaurant, Yahaba's excitement quelled as he and Hanamaki observed Seri having another soft drink while her mother was caught up in reading emails on her phone. And it reminded Yahaba of one of his curiosities from when Serinuma had first entered their life over two weeks ago.

"Ah, please hold on a moment," he said as Hanamaki slid in across from Seri while Serinuma stood to leave.

Three sets of eyes stared at him. "What?" Serinuma asked.

"I…was wondering if you might join us."

He could feel the pointed look Hanamaki shot him, but Yahaba focused on the dark eyes before him, which narrowed as Serinuma clearly tried to discern his intentions. "…I don't do home cooking," she mumbled.

"There's a nice place a block from here."

Several seconds passed with the four of them frozen. Finally, Serinuma caved. "Your treat, though, since you did the inviting."

"Of course," Yahaba said through gritted teeth, and Seri finished her drink right then and hopped out of the booth. He noted how she fell into step between him and Hanamaki again, as if this night were the same as the others.

"Seriously?" Hanamaki hissed lowly, for Yahaba only to hear.

But Yahaba gave him an imploring look, asking for this bit of leeway. Regardless of how the evening went, he'd explain everything later.

Despite it being Yahaba's invitation, Serinuma asked the host for a specific table, and she was the one with all the specific menu inquiries that put the waiter on the spot. But, once they'd ordered, Serinuma stared at them, perhaps bemused. "I'm not sure what you're expecting from this…"

"Well… I thought maybe we should get to—"

She held up her hand to stop Yahaba and gave that snort-laugh of hers. "Bad idea. There's no point in getting to know me, nor I, you. Think of this as a business exchange." Her tone was so serious, but…truth be told, there was mirth in her eyes. It wasn't pleasant, as it was with Hanamaki, but Yahaba couldn't describe it any other way.

But he was trying here. "You mentioned before that you're in a serious relationship. Are you getting married soon?"

Seri perked up at that and joined the conversation. "Mama's getting a husband soon. Shige is Taka's husband," she chirped—an odd sound considering her poker face went unchanged.

It was hard to stay on subject when Seri whipped out random cute like that, and Yahaba saw out of the corner of his eye that Hanamaki had to turn away, too, he was so charmed by what she'd said. "Um, no, that's not quite right…," Yahaba tried to correct.

Yet Hanamaki's hand found his underneath the table, and Hanamaki gave it a squeeze, like, _Well, she's not far off, so don't bother correcting her._ So Yahaba gave up.

Serinuma seemed the only one immune to the whole business. "That's the plan," she finally answered, and she scratched the back of her head and fiddled more with her phone as they waited for the food, ostensibly killing the conversation at that point.

Still, those who cared didn't give up. The food arrived, and Yahaba was damned if he let Hanamaki or Seri feel as if this night were unlike the rest, so the men focused their attention on Seri, and she started opening up, bit by bit, though it was mostly about how delicious she found the evening's food.

After Yahaba had paid, the adults waited at the table while Seri ducked in to the bathroom. Yahaba struggled to find the words to pick up where he'd left off with Serinuma, but he caught her eyeing them. No longer entertaining the possibility of playing dumb with her, Yahaba sighed. "…what? Something on our faces?"

Her eyes flickered to Hanamaki, back to Yahaba, and back to Hanamaki. Then she closed them and shook her head. "No, nothing."

And they missed the chance to insist on her explaining when Seri returned.

Outside the nice restaurant, the couple stood apart from the mother and daughter, though Seri scuffed her shoes on the pavement again, her tiny hands gripping the straps of her bag as the men had come to recognize was habit. Serinuma didn't look, though, as she said, "Tomorrow evening, the usual. _This_ was the outlier, so it won't happen again. Come on, Seri."

With that, mother turned on her heel and walked away. Seri, to her credit, took a moment to bow in thanks before running after Serinuma, but…

"Is it just me, or did she actually look…disappointed?" Hanamaki asked.

They stood around until the women were out of sight and then headed for their apartment complex. "No, I thought so, too," Yahaba acquiesced. But that wasn't what had him preoccupied…and he felt resistant to telling Hanamaki what _did_ have him pensive, no matter the coy or sly looks Hanamaki tried on him.

* * *

It was hard to sleep on it. And it was hard to ignore by thrusting himself into work. Really, all Yahaba could do was eye Serinuma more whenever they collected Seri from her, solidifying the conclusion he'd drawn.

When the weekend neared again, Hanamaki prodded him as they left the family restaurant where he worked, since Yahaba had come to pick him up, and went to the fast-food joint. "You've been awfully quiet about her lately," the former wing spiker stated as they made a turn and crossed the street.

"I…" Yahaba's mouth felt dry, as if he'd been in a deep sleep and had just woken up parched. His pace slowed, as did Hanamaki's, and he reached out and touched his lover's arm. "Don't take this the wrong way."

Hanamaki rolled his eyes, like, _That's what you say to preface something insulting._ "What?"

"I…really don't like Serinuma-san. She scares me."

Hanamaki twisted his lips around before finally frowning. "I don't like her either, but… She scares you?"

"This is the part you might take the wrong way."

The taller man quirked an eyebrow and sank the other.

"She…she's a _lot_ like…you." Though Hanamaki stroked his chin as he mulled over Yahaba's words, Yahaba hoped he could explain this properly. It wasn't that Hanamaki was cold and uncaring—but her blasé attitude and in-your-face manner of handling the Seri scenario or even a simple conversation reminded Yahaba _so much_ of Hanamaki, Yahaba couldn't help but shiver at the comparison.

"…yeah, okay, I get that."

The brunet blinked, giving his boyfriend an incredulous look. "Come again?"

Hanamaki shook his head and removed Yahaba's hand from his arm, taking that hand and holding on to it as they neared the fast-food place. "I get what you're saying, though that's only half of it. I think Serinuma-san," he said lowly as the two paused outside and spied mother and daughter through the window in the storefront, "is what I would've become if I hadn't had you in my life."

Oh. His words truly were unexpected. Yahaba found himself absentmindedly clutching his heart with his free hand as Hanamaki entwined their fingers. He turned Nekoma red and glared at his lover when Hanamaki noted that, but it was useless to tug away from him. "You are extremely bad for my heart when you say such honest things like that," Yahaba grumbled, and Hanamaki grinned so widely, it was as if they were back in the gym during practice all those years ago, and Yahaba was falling in love all over again with his senpai.

They entered the establishment, Hanamaki still beaming even as he laid eyes on Seri. He waved to her, and, though she had yet to return one of his smiles so far, she waved back.

Serinuma's eyes drifted over her phone before lifting up to rest on the happy couple. Something about her demeanor screamed, "You're late." But she said nothing as she stood up and stepped away from the booth, meeting the men on their way to the table. "I thought we'd try something different," she said.

Hanamaki pulled a face. "Last time we tried doing that, you came close to biting our heads off and said that was pretty much one and done."

"Because that was _your_ idea. This time, it's one of mine, so I already know I'm going to go along with it." She took a step closer to them, but Yahaba realized it was just to ensure Seri was out of earshot. "I think you should take her for the weekend."

"What?! We can't do that— You can't just leave her with us and let it be," Hanamaki retorted.

"I know that. I read over the legalese in the custody transfer papers. I _know_. But it's the next step, so here you go." She glanced over her shoulder. "Seri. Sleepover at their place. Be good." And, as expected, the woman left without even a parting.

Hanamaki cursed under his breath and shook his head. "That woman, honestly…!"

They sat in the booth with Seri while she finished her drink, and Yahaba cupped his cheek in his palm, watching her once more in this manner. "Seri-chan… _do_ you want to stay at our place?" He didn't want them to force her to do anything she didn't like, no matter what Serinuma's wishes were.

Her eyes gave nothing away as she nodded. She finished her soft drink a minute later and hopped out as always, but she kept a step behind them, like a baby duck waddling after its parents. That nervousness concerned both men, who exchanged a look above her head, but they didn't ask about it.

Though it was the wrong season for it, they bought the ingredients for hotpot, since Hanamaki insisted that Seri sleeping over was something to celebrate. The apples of her cheeks pinked at that, and it was hard to deny the cuteness of that act, though Yahaba made certain Hanamaki didn't tease her over it.

Only once they were back at the apartment did it occur to either of the men to ask. "Seri-chan, do you even have—oh," Hanamaki stopped as Seri, in her spot in the middle of the couch, unzipped her backpack to reveal a set of strawberry-printed pajamas and her own toiletries. He caught Yahaba's eye again, and the latter urged him on. "Okay… Since you're staying the night, how about you take a bath while we get dinner ready?" When she nodded, he added, "Do you want one of us to help—" He stopped short at the Hanamaki-glare he found himself settled with from the little girl, so he didn't finish his thought as he went to draw the water.

"He's just trying to look out for you," Yahaba told her from the kitchen. At the silence, Yahaba peeked into the living room and saw Seri glaring hard at the rug on the floor in front of the couch. Ah. She knew that already.

"Bath's ready," Hanamaki announced a few minutes later, and he stepped aside as Seri trotted past him and into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. He joined Yahaba in the kitchen. "She's a lot more mature than I was at that age."

"Girls often are," Yahaba told him. They worked on prepping supper in silence for a few minutes before Yahaba recognized they'd overlooked one important thing: "Uh, where's she going to sleep? And please don't say the guestroom. It's one thing for one of our friends, because they're big and sturdy, but there are about a million things in there that could fall down and hurt a four-year-old."

Hanamaki frowned. "Yeah… I don't think she'd want to join us, either. Couch?"

Yahaba gave him a look. "We're not making her sleep on the couch, Takahiro-san."

"Then what? _We_ take the couch and give her our bed?" Though, as soon as he said it, his lips curved up at the ends. "It'll be a tight fit~"

He yelped when Yahaba stepped on his foot. "Table the nonsense for the night, will you?"

"Taka. Shige."

Her young voice still took some getting used to, but the couple turned at her announcement, and it was hard not to laugh at the way she'd tried wrapping the too-large towel around her hair the way an older girl would. The cuffs and hems of her pajamas hung off her some, too, giving her the air of a doll dressed in ill-fitted, handmade clothes.

"Time for dinner," Hanamaki managed between subtle snickers, and both he and Yahaba endured her grumpy, puffed-out, red cheeks as the trio set up to eat in the living room.

Yahaba rolled her sleeves and pant legs up for her, and they ate heartily in peace after. "Have you ever had hotpot before?" the brunet asked.

Seri shook her head, her eyes glittering at anything that made its way to her bowl—veggies, meat, condiments—though she filled up quite a bit on rice.

They had the TV on in the background, as that was the best way to lure Seri in to conversing, but she was super focused on the culinary delicacies in front of her. With her tuning everything but the food out, Hanamaki braved asking Yahaba a regrettable question: "So…we're only children… Think we should ask Kyoutani for tips?"

Yahaba choked on a carrot. " _You're joking, right_?"

"Come on. He's the only one of us with younger sisters, and isn't the younger one something like thirteen years younger than he is? He's got to have the skillset we lack."

Yahaba made a face, clearly expressing, _You're_ joking _, right?!_

Hanamaki childishly stuck his tongue out at him, but his attention was caught next by Seri's towel sliding off her head. "Ah, Seri-chan, you really should dry your hair…"

The little girl showed no signs of pausing eating.

"Seri-chan, do you have a brush?"

She managed to shovel another bite of rice into her mouth while reaching behind her into her backpack and producing the requested item.

"Good." Hanamaki took it and, after hesitating for a second, tugged her gently into his lap. As Seri didn't mind so long as she could keep eating, Hanamaki toweled the rest of her hair dry and started brushing it, using slow, gentle strokes so her hair didn't catch.

Yahaba watched the scene unfold, a smile blooming on his face. It turned to a smirk briefly when Hanamaki met his eyes. "We lack the skillset. Right," he teased, and he laughed at the redness of Hanamaki's face, his laughter drawing Seri's attention to them for a moment before the TV recaptured her focus.

Seri, though quiet as ever, seemed to enjoy the grooming, and she settled in Hanamaki's lap, leaning back against his chest as she finished her dinner and watched a string of commercials on the television. Ah. A good sign, the men noted.

"Did you enjoy your first hotpot?" Yahaba asked her as he started clearing everything away. He motioned Hanamaki not to get up. He'd rather take care of this by himself than disturb the girl.

Seri opened her mouth to reply—but her voice caught, and her eyes, stuck on the TV, glittered again…but this time with tears.

The couple panicked, and Hanamaki put her brush down, as if he'd been the offender. But they didn't jump to conclusions. Instead, they followed her line of sight to the TV, and it clicked, what would've brought her to tears.

The commercial playing showed a mother around Serinuma's age, taking her two daughters out shopping and coming home to make dinner with them. The spot ended with the mother promoting a certain brand of seasoning, and then a sports drink ad played next. Nevertheless, the damage was done.

"Seri-chan," Yahaba started, his voice calming despite his opposing feelings.

"Seri-chan," Hanamaki tried, peering down at her.

But Seri bit her lower lip and hunched forward in Hanamaki's lap, for all intents and purposes drawing in on herself.

Again, the men shared a look, and Yahaba quickly put things away. When he returned to the living room, he saw Hanamaki still trying to coo to her, all the while running his fingers through her hair, gently, as he'd done with the hairbrush. "Seri-chan," the older man began, "can I ask you a question?"

She nodded stiffly.

"Does… Does your mama like you?"

Yahaba squelched the urge to snap at Hanamaki for asking a _child_ that kind of question. It was a cruel thing to ask, and yet… The bluntness that all three—Serinuma, Hanamaki, and Seri—shared somehow made it permissible. But that didn't make the quick shake of her head any easier to bear.

That was what it took. Three hearts breaking, together. Seri cried quietly at first before her wailing turned into heart-wrenching sobs, and she either didn't mind or didn't notice as Hanamaki enveloped her in his arms and Yahaba came and joined them, a second set of warm and just as loving arms there to wrap her in a familial warmth it was abundantly apparent she had never experienced.

* * *

This time, when Yahaba woke on Sunday morning, he woke to a small warmth, though he was surprised to find he was under one of his and Hanamaki's favorite blankets. At that, Yahaba blinked last night's crusted tears from his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting a headache.

Seri, beside him, curled around his arm.

He turned his head and watched her sleep as he tried to recall what had happened after that revelation last night. Hmm… They'd cried themselves sleepy… Hanamaki had helped her into Yahaba's arms, and they'd carried her to their room, where they'd tucked her in… Yahaba had fallen asleep beside her, but—

He looked around the room.

Where was Hanamaki?

When Seri rolled onto her stomach in her sleep, Yahaba took advantage of his newly freed arm and crept, quiet as a cat, out of the room, gone in search of his lover. He found him looking half dead on their lurid pink couch.

"'Mornin'," Hanamaki mumbled, holding his arms open for Yahaba.

The former setter traipsed over to him and gingerly dove in to the inviting embrace. "Mmmrmm," Yahaba said by way of greeting. He lifted his head up from Hanamaki's chest a beat later. "You didn't sleep in there with us?"

Hanamaki shook his head, pointing to the bags under his eyes. "I didn't sleep much at all. So I figured it better to laze out here on the couch instead of bothering you two."

"…if you're that bothered by her answer, you didn't have to ask Seri-chan that last night." Honestly, he really didn't. Because, either way, they'd known the answer without asking.

"I needed to know how aware she is of everything," Hanamaki stated. "That kid—she knows more than it seems at first glance. I was the same way when I was little."

"You were?"

"Yeah. I eased up, though, by the time I got to high school and met everyone. I think it comes from how much you're able to trust those around you."

Yahaba blinked in surprise. "You don't trust your parents?"

Hanamaki smiled. "It's not that. That's a kind of inherent trust, in most cases. But the trust you build with a team, with friends, with a lover"—he punctuated his musing with a kiss to Yahaba's lips—"is something you make. It lets you let up a little, when you're confident in that trust."

Yahaba hummed in agreement and closed his eyes, resting his head again on the other male's chest.

"Shigeru."

"Hmm?"

"We've got to get her out of there."

Yahaba opened his eyes but left his head where it was. "…I know."

"I'll do whatever I can. I'll even look for a better job. A fulltime one, with better hours."

Yahaba smiled to himself, enjoying a reverie of Hanamaki as a househusband. "There's still a lot to consider, Takahiro-san."

"…I know." Hanamaki went quiet for a long while, but he sat up some, pulling Yahaba with him, when he next spoke. "Hey, while you two were still snuggled up in there, I texted my boss. Told him I was sick."

"Takahiro-san, you lied to get the day off?"

_There_ was the trademark Hanamaki grin. "I'm just using a sick day. I rarely get sick, Shigeru."

"'Rarely' is not the same as 'never,'" Yahaba groused, and he extricated himself with a friendly biff to the top of Hanamaki's head, as one would do with a puppy in training. "So, if you're playing hooky, I assume you have a plan for the day?"

And, to Yahaba's surprise, he did.

They coaxed Seri awake, though she was a much heavier sleeper than either of them. Hanamaki made hotcakes for breakfast—one of the few things he could cook all by himself, as Matsukawa had insisted Hanamaki learn the recipe on his own ages ago, for those times when Yahaba wasn't around—and the trio ate and dressed for a day out. Jeans and light jackets were must-haves, as the summer breezes were gone, replaced by the early autumn zephyrs.

Since the couple lived on the outer edge of the city, the bus ride to the local petting zoo wasn't a long one. They got off at the zoo stop with all the other families and young couples, and the surprise amazed Yahaba and won Seri over. In fact, she was so swept up in the visit, figuring out which pen to see first, that she reached up and grabbed Yahaba's and Hanamaki's hands in hers, _this_ close to swinging between them in her excitement. For such little hands, her grip was extremely tight.

Hanamaki delighted in watching her head snap back and forth between the various animals, but he laughed when they went to the pond enclosure and pointed out the ducks to Yahaba. They weren't rubber ducks, but still.

Yahaba entertained the idea of pushing Hanamaki into the pond.

The trio ended their visit around lunchtime, and Hanamaki even had that covered. Though it wasn't the most nutritious of lunches, there was a crepe stand in the park beside the petting zoo, and Hanamaki bought sweet and savory alike for the three of them to gorge on. Chocolate-covered pretzel and banana crepes for Yahaba, strawberry and peach crepes for Seri, and strawberry and cotton candy crepes for Hanamaki—Seri tried the cotton candy one and made a hilarious face when she announced it was too sweet, even for her, and Hanamaki laughed at that until Yahaba assured her that he was forever after Hanamaki over his insatiable sweet tooth.

After, they headed back, taking a detour through the small shopping district near the supermarket. Seri paused at the pet store to watch the puppies in the window, but she gave no indication that she was like the other kids lining up to watch the animals, that she wanted to take one home and own it. Yet the toy store was different, and she watched the toys and the children inside enviously, though she refused to go in at the couple's offer.

At the hundred-yen store, before the supermarket, Hanamaki ducked inside, leaving Yahaba and Seri to wait on him. "We can do this again sometime," Yahaba told her, though he cringed internally at how that sounded. It was stupid to make a promise he wasn't certain he could keep.

Seri said nothing, but she _did_ give his hand a squeeze.

"Hey, hey, look at this~" Hanamaki trilled as he re-joined them outside. He held up small hair ties with round, white baubles on them. "I figured I could draw lines on them, and they'd look like volleyballs, Seri-chan," he said, which Yahaba figured wasn't the worst idea. She'd sat, listening to some of their high school game stories with mild interest before.

Seri gave him her usual poker face.

He sighed and held up another set of hair ties, these ones with strawberry baubles on them. "And I got strawberries, just in case. Pigtails or ponytail, kiddo?"

Her eyes lit up, and she motioned for Yahaba to pick her up so that Hanamaki could fix her hair into a sweet little ponytail—and then she motioned for Hanamaki to give her a piggyback ride until they reached the supermarket.

They were having fun. They were having so much _fun_. Yahaba was shocked at how easy Seri seemed to slip in to their life. It made it that much harder to let go of her hand just so the three of them could make dinner together that night, and it made it excruciating to let go of her hand that night after they ate when Serinuma rang their doorbell.

Seri, who'd just packed the last of her favorite picture books into her cupcake backpack with Hanamaki's help, blanched at the sound. Yahaba went to answer the door, but he saw before he turned: Seri snatched the strawberry hair tie from her hair and crammed it in her pocket, smoothing her hair as if it hadn't been touched.

"Is Seri ready?" Serinuma asked, not bothering to come in this time.

"Yes," Yahaba said rigidly, and he watched from the corner of his eye how Hanamaki gently nudged her towards her mother.

"Don't act so put out. I'm collecting her now so your work schedules won't be affected," Serinuma told Yahaba dispassionately. "You'll see her again tomorrow night."

"Ah—"

Both Serinuma and Yahaba glanced at Hanamaki at his interjection.

"…no, never mind."

Serinuma eyed him for so long, Yahaba would've worried if he hadn't known about her total lack of interest in Hanamaki already. "Seri, go call the elevator," she ordered her daughter without looking at her.

Seri did as asked, and she waited at the end of the hallway while her mother remained with the two men.

"I thought you'd want to see this," Serinuma said suddenly, opening her bag and passing them a paper.

Yahaba took it, and Hanamaki read over his arm. "A paternity test? How—?" The words felt foreign in Yahaba's mouth.

"There was a hair on your kitchen table the first time I arrived. You two really ought to do a better job housekeeping," she admonished, but she didn't let them interrupt when she pointed a manicured finger towards the middle of the page, where it discussed parentage. "I wasn't lying. Seri's my daughter. But she's also yours, Hanamaki-kun. So that's that cleared up."

Stunningly, Yahaba was relieved. He'd seen the change in Hanamaki since first meeting Seri, and he knew he, too, had fun with the kid. So the thought of Seri ultimately _not_ being Hanamaki's and the world of hurt that would do to him had started to gnaw at Yahaba since he'd last spoken to Watari.

And yet Hanamaki's face crumpled. He didn't cry, but he bit his lower lip, addressing Serinuma as his eyes lingered on the truth. "…Serinuma-san…I'm still not sure I can support Seri-chan—"

"Great," she interrupted with a hiss of a sigh.

The two men stared at her, confused.

"You can't support her—"

Hanamaki clenched his jaw at that.

"—I don't want her—"

Yahaba clenched his fist, crinkling the paternity test in his grip, but Hanamaki put a hand on his arm, stilling him.

"—so we'll need to find a third option." She shook her head and turned on her heel. "Now I've got some _real_ planning to do," she complained, and she caught up with Seri just as the elevator arrived.

Yahaba slammed the door shut. "God _damn_ it! She didn't even let you finish!"

"Shigeru, I know that."

"Of course you're not sure of yourself—who would be, given a child out of the blue?!—but you want to support her! You want to try!"

Yahaba was huffing, and much of the tension left Hanamaki's posture, seeing how angry Yahaba got on his behalf. "I do," he confirmed, "but there's no room to 'try,' Shigeru. Not when a kid's involved. I either do or don't."

"But—"

Hanamaki kissed him quiet. Then he backed off and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. He paused, realizing something was in his right pocket, and he withdrew the white bauble ties. He frowned and grabbed a permanent marker from the pen cup on the shelves beside the couch, and he disappeared into the spare room by himself, closing the door with a resounding click.

* * *

When in doubt, make a spreadsheet.

Frankly, Yahaba already had one. He managed one for each tax year, with the individual tabs marked for their jobs, for their food expenses, for rent and utilities and cable, for entertainment, for the fun stuff—trips and sporting events, separate from more common things like movies or hobbies or supplies for in the bedroom. And he had an additional tab with a summary, though he kept it to himself that the summary was what the normal, married families got to use year in and year out.

The past few days had been the usual, evenings with Seri that ended with her leaving with Serinuma, but the weekend was coming up fast, and Yahaba was praying that Seri could stay with them again.

But the weekend arrived, and Serinuma mentioned nothing of the sort.

Hanamaki was a lot stronger than Yahaba imagined, not letting his disappointment show on his face when they had Seri. But he looked so tired when Seri's attention was turned away from him, such as those times when Seri sat in her father's lap so he could brush her hair and pull it into a ponytail decorated with plastic strawberries.

Such a scene made Yahaba's eyes burn with withheld tears, and he had to lie to Seri those times when she caught him teary-eyed. Then again, there was a limit to the number of times one could pass that reaction off as the result of cutting into onions. Especially on nights when they didn't _have_ onions.

So Yahaba focused on his current spreadsheet on the computer in the spare room, staring at the screen while Hanamaki and Seri were out for a pre-dinner walk since Yahaba was waiting for the flavors of the soup to meld more before they ate.

His cursor hovered over the "New Tab" button, but he clicked it when he blinked, as if the action were as simple as a reflex. Then he renamed the tab—"Seri"—and listed the needs for bringing her up in their household.

Lodging, they had covered. Yahaba and Hanamaki would fix this room up to be hers, and the rent would be the same even with an additional person. Yahaba knew; he'd spoken with their neighbors two doors over, the Izumi family, who were also a family of three. Yes, they would have to buy proper furniture, but Yahaba figured the bonus he'd been saving from the spring would cover most of what they needed, and he knew Hanamaki would be fine with spending the money that way instead of going home to Sendai to watch the Spring High prelims this year.

Food wasn't an issue, either. They would have to buy more rice, definitely, as Seri ate so much of the grain, but meals could be stretched, and it would mean sometimes they wouldn't have leftovers. Not a big deal.

Clothing… Yahaba pursed his lips. Seri had a lot of junk crammed into that backpack, but surely Serinuma had more of her belongings back home? That would take some of the burden off them, and Yahaba realized that, though it wasn't his favorite option, it would be a good idea to ask Kyoutani if his family still had any of his sisters' hand-me-downs lying around. They'd take what they could get.

Entertainment could be figured out at a later date, and again Yahaba knew he and Hanamaki were willing to sacrifice in order to keep Seri happy.

But school.

Yahaba looked in to the school district nearby. It was a public school, but a good one, so she'd be fine there. All Yahaba had to estimate was the cost of things like a proper school bag, books, notebooks… And, gods, further down the line, what if she didn't attend the local high school? What if she wanted a private school? What if she were smart enough for a private school? And university, after that?

The former setter leaned back in the swivel chair, staring at the ceiling. It would mean cutting back and saving more. And, maybe, asking Yahaba's parents for help later on…

Yet he entered in generous numbers after researching what healthcare might cover for a healthy four-year-old, and, though some numbers were tighter than he wished, he only saw a few red figures. After adjusting some of his and Hanamaki's luxuries, there were no red marks whatsoever. Yahaba cupped his mouth in his hand as he read over everything.

Damn Watari for being right.

It'd been more than a month since this unsmiling girl had appeared, and it'd been more than a month of Seri worming her way into their hearts, though Yahaba didn't see it as Seri following some scheme of Serinuma's so that Serinuma could foist her daughter off onto someone else. No, Seri's reactions were too real, too honest, and Yahaba had noted on more than one occasion that Seri fixed her hair every time her mother came to collect her, as if expecting Serinuma might accept her one of these days if she showed that nothing had changed even after meeting her father.

Unfortunately for Seri, Hanamaki and Yahaba knew better than that.

But, knowing all that…could they really make this work?

"Shigeru! We're back!"

"Shige!"

Yahaba's heart skipped a beat, hearing Seri call for him with Hanamaki. "Coming!" he yelled from the spare room, and he saved the file before going out to meet them.

Seri went to wash up, so Hanamaki was alone when he saw Yahaba. He gaped at him and broke into a smile. "Did something good happen?"

"Huh?"

"Your face. You look really excited," Hanamaki mentioned as he took a step closer.

"No, nothing," he fibbed. He didn't want to get Hanamaki's hopes yet just yet. And— "Why are your hands filthy?"

Hanamaki held his palms up. "Oh, that. Someone left a soccer ball in the playground two blocks over, so I showed Seri-chan how to spike."

Yahaba sighed. "You what?"

"Yeah, I showed her how awesome I am! Then I held it out for her to smack, and she spiked it out of my hands every single time. Kid'll be a natural when she's older."

"Natural what?" Seri asked when she came out of the bathroom with clean and dry hands.

"Wing spiker!" Hanamaki said as they switched places. "I told you, Seri-chan. I played the wing spiker's position."

Yahaba shook his head and went into the kitchen, Seri following him. "Honestly. Seri-chan, if you really want to play volleyball when you're older, then play as the _actually_ cool person. Become a setter, like me."

"I heard that, Shigeru!"

The atmosphere was light like that, and Yahaba refused to let the good mood dissipate even when Serinuma reared her ugly head. In fact, Yahaba had something to say to her.

But Serinuma's announcement threatened to dump cold water on his fiery words. "So, I think it's best if Seri and I go home for good soon."

Hanamaki paled, Seri looked between the adults confusedly, and Yahaba stood up straighter. Frankly, Yahaba had been expecting this. "You've made other arrangements?"

"No. But it's a bad idea to leave this avenue open when it leads nowhere."

Hanamaki's nostrils flared, but Yahaba put a hand on his chest to calm him. "Then give us one more weekend with her."

Serinuma narrowed her eyes at him. Obviously she was trying to discern his plans again. Again, she failed. "Another weekend or not—there's no difference." It wasn't until she shrugged that Yahaba felt success, and he had to shove Hanamaki back inside their home as the mother and daughter left.

"What the hell are you thinking?!" Hanamaki growled, still pissed.

"I'm thinking that it's time you quit working part-time at two different places. Didn't you say that the manager who left the café started up a decent corporate catering business?"

Hanamaki made a string of perplexed sounds as Yahaba led him into the spare room. "Wait, are you saying…?"

Yahaba brought up his work from earlier. He really couldn't keep this from Hanamaki for long. "Why don't you take a look?"

* * *

The weekend arrived, and the three of them spent it cozy in front of the TV, marathoning an old sci-fi anime Hanamaki had liked as a kid. Halfway through their time together, Hanamaki did as he'd told Yahaba the day before, and filled Seri in on the plan.

"I think Serinuma-san changed her mind about me," Hanamaki had said the previous morning. "And…not that it seems Seri-chan's opinion matters much to her…it might make it easier if the three of us are prepared to wear her down."

"But, she's _four_. Telling her about the financial situation seems cruel, Takahiro-san."

"No. She knows she's loved here, she's _liked_ here. Telling her will show her how much."

Stunningly, it did. Seri sat very obediently as Hanamaki said his schedule would be changing in the near future, that sometimes she would be looked after by the Izumi family if he or Yahaba weren't home, and that they'd need her to help not only with cooking alongside them but doing housework with them, too.

Seri's response? "I can dust," she said pointblank, but her eyes glittered as if they'd put the world's largest bowl of fried rice in front of her. She really _was_ a good kid.

That Sunday evening, the three of them sat watching a comedy together, anticipating Serinuma's arrival. Seri sat between the two men, swinging her legs much like the first time they'd met, but this time her hair was swept back in a ponytail tied with volleyball baubles, and she kept her hands firmly in the pockets of her pink-and-yellow hooded sweatshirt, making no move to fix her hair—even when the doorbell sounded.

Yahaba, as planned, answered the door, and Hanamaki and Seri trailed behind him. "Good evening, Serinuma-san."

"Seri's ready, I see," Serinuma said with a cursory glance to her daughter. But she did a double-take and lowered her phone upon noting Seri's hairstyle. "You didn't have to do that," she remarked flatly, and she tapped her heeled foot impatiently.

"No, I didn't, but I wanted to, as did Seri-chan," Hanamaki piped up.

Her eyes were smaller-than-normal slits and darker. By now, Seri usually would've trotted to her, but Seri was steadfastly beside Hanamaki. So Serinuma crossed her free arm in front of her chest. "And?"

"Why don't you come in?" Yahaba offered. He gestured to the kitchen table with which she was well-acquainted, and he gave her his best impression of Oikawa's intimidating smile until she scoffed and sat down.

"What brought up the change of heart?" she said as she opened her bag.

Yahaba locked eyes with Hanamaki. There was a multitude of choice things they wanted to tell this woman, but not in front of Seri. So Yahaba went with the most important truth: "We love her."

"Hmm."

"We can make this happen."

"Uh-huh."

"…just find the papers, Serinuma-san."

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked at the three of them, her eyes cold. She lowered her voice. "You realize it's not going to be easy."

"Thank you for your concern, but we've discussed the matter. We know what we're doing."

Serinuma shook her head, and something brief passed across her face—something maudlin or sad…uncharacteristic for her, nevertheless. She dropped her register before she added, "That kid's defective. No smiles, no frowns, no _nothing_." With that said, the uncharacteristic something was gone, just like that, and she heaved a sigh of relief.

Luckily Seri's vocabulary had yet to include "defective," and Yahaba knew without looking at Hanamaki that they wouldn't define it for her for a long time to come.

"If there's one saving grace, you changed your minds before she started school, so that's your concern, not mine." She located the papers with an "aha!" and it was an eerie throwback to her initial demand. Her words now were the same as back then as she held the packet out to Hanamaki: "There. Sign these."

Hanamaki didn't have to be told twice. He urged Seri to go sit on the couch before he sat across from Serinuma at the two-seater and read over the papers with Yahaba, who stood behind him. Though they were both smart, he relied on Yahaba's more-educated background to help him tackle some sections he didn't grasp fully, and he initialed and signed only after Yahaba's go-ahead. Once that was done, the men realized the packet was thin because that was their copy, so they copied things over to a second packet, Serinuma's, which she'd take and file after showing her lawyer friend, along with a photo she took with her phone of Hanamaki signing the papers and a picture she took of his license as proof of signature. She did the same for herself with the custody papers and her license, and she emailed them as attachments to both Hanamaki and Yahaba.

"And we are just about done," Serinuma announced, tucking her packet back into her bag.

"'Just about'?" Yahaba and Hanamaki said in unison.

She waved them off as they stood along with her. "Relax. You've got the kid. I'm not trying to screw you over when it comes to that. What I mean is that I'll be shipping the box of Seri's stuff—"

"There's only one?" Yahaba asked, though he wasn't terribly surprised, considering Serinuma's personality and her treatment of her own flesh and blood.

"—to you soon," she finished, as if she'd not been cut off. She shouldered her bag and gave a slight bow of her head to them. And she headed out, not saying "goodbye" to any of them, least of all to her daughter.

When it was just the three of them once more, Seri got off the couch and stared at Yahaba and Hanamaki. Both frozen, Yahaba thawed first, and he came and knelt in front of Seri, smiling at her. Her eyes glittered again, and she shook her backpack off and placed it on the couch before latching on to Yahaba's neck, hugging him so tightly it brought happy tears to his eyes. He hugged her back and kissed her cheek—and she beamed at him.

How could anyone call this child defective?

Hanamaki saw it, too, and he joined them, kneeling beside his lover and ruffling his daughter's hair. He kissed her other cheek…and her smile disappeared, replaced with that poker face.

Yahaba laughed at Hanamaki's yelp of offense, because he could see that smile returning. On Seri's face as well as on Hanamaki's face, that smile they shared was returning, and it was something precious that Yahaba wasn't going to allow to disappear again.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, yes. It's been a while since I've written a fic like this (sudden family, an OC you're supposed to hate, etc.), but I really enjoyed bringing Seri to life—actually, Serinuma, too, because she's such a bitch. Still, you have to wonder if it's possible to hate her fully, considering her warning to Hanayaha—if she thought she'd never get love from Seri, then that slightly explains why Serinuma didn't put in the effort…though I confess that I, like Hanayaha, wanna slug her over how she handled things and treated Seri in the first place. Ahh, OCs to hate, OCs to love~ My father, papa mew, asked (in response to describing this plot) if it's easier to write an OC that's dislikeable as opposed to likeable, and my first response was "yes," but now I have to wonder about that… It comes more naturally, I suppose, but it depends on how much of an outright villain you want to make someone… Anywho. A novella knocked out in 2 days. Yay, mew. XD
> 
> I'd been thinking of this fic for a while, ever since I wrote the 2nd of the untitled Matsuwatas mentioned in my opening A/N. I had a Kinkuni idea that's morphed slightly, but who knows what will happen with that, if I write it? Aside from playing loose and fast regarding custody in Japan, I think the only thing that remains is whether you accept Yahaba's acceptance of Hanamaki's one-night stand. I still have iffy feelings about it, but I believe Yahaba compartmentalized here, especially since there was Seri to consider, whether or not he liked it. Yahaba did promise to second-guess Hanamaki for a while after, but I believe they will be fine in the end, in this universe. The real question is: Will Seri ever stop referring to them as "Shige" and "Taka"? (Methinks the answer is "no," *lol*.)
> 
> So I hope you enjoyed this, and thank you very much for reading! Please leave a review if you liked this!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki :3c


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